Go The Distance
by PadfootSawyer
Summary: Arthur contemplates what his life would be like if he lost or wasn't a prince. One-shot. Applies to Lyrics of "Go The Distance" from Disney's Hercules.


I have often dreamed

Of a far off place

Where a hero's welcome

Would be waiting for me

Where the crowds will cheer

When they see my face

And a voice keeps saying

This is where I'm meant to be

Arthur Pendragon gazed out of his bedroom window, eyes focused on the sky as he allowed his mind to wander; a luxury for the future prince. Yet he found it hard to have his mind fully wander for it kept returning to one topic: the recent tournament held in Camelot.

Arthur, being the prince of Camelot - and the crown prince at that - had been not only expected to perform but to also to win. His father, Uther, had been watching him the whole time. It was his right being the king.

But Arthur felt differently at this tournament for some reason. As if his father had been watching specifically HIM the entire time. And not to make sure his son wouldn't get injured or to comment on improving his fighting techniques.

No.

He'd been watching to see if Arthur would mess up; to see if he would not win.

Uther had been watching, even waiting, for his son to fail.

It hadn't bothered Arthur at the time; he'd grown up with the expectation that he would not fail regardless of the circumstances. It was not something the future king of Camelot would do.

But now. He was alone. And he was thinking back to the tournament with vigor. Remembering every detail. Particularly the feeling of anticipation that had surrounded the auditorium and the emotions emitting from the surrounding crowd.

His father had waited for him to fail. The people had all been assembled there to watch their prince win. Not lose. God knows what would have happened if he actually had lost...

Naturally, he hadn't. He'd won. All the same...

A bird soared over the castle, circled it once, and flew back to whence it came.

Arthur briefly wondered.

What would his life be like if he wasn't always being scrutinized for his failures; people congregated just waiting for him to mess up. To make a fool of himself. To lose.

Why, he'd be a hero. The hero he'd been yearning to be since he was a small child. Arthur would be the most popular person in town. And not due to his princely status: but because he'd earned it.

He'd have fought and won. Due entirely to the fact that he was a worthy opponent and had beaten a fellow player. Not because he was a prince and had gotten the best training.

People would stop him on the streets to discuss his most recent victory and mothers would tell their children, "That's the famous Arthur. He won the most rigorous challenge in all the land."

His number of friends would be enormous; everyone would respect him but not expect to have him win every time; they'd want his victory of course, as any good people would. They would come to his challenges and cheer him on. Would congratulate him if he won and support him when he lost.

When he lost. Not if. What a strange concept: Arthur losing. He'd never lost anything in his life. Well maybe his temper once or twice but no competition. No tournament. No duel.

Winning was such an essential part of his life he couldn't fathom what would happen if he didn't. Probably not live to see another day. His father wouldn't allow a loss.

Come to think of it, Arthur probably wouldn't allow himself to fail. He was so used to not...

Arthur switched his gaze from the sky to the courtyard below. There was his father, cape billowing out behind him as he made his way to the stables. Arthur briefly wondered after his father's actions but soon continued to contemplate his own situation.

Winning was everything. Winning was what Arthur had grown up doing. Winning was his life. He couldn't live without it.

To walk down the street and not have people look to him with respect and dignity that he tried to live up to every day would be something he couldn't get used to.

Just like...

Arthur's thoughts stopped as he saw his father leading out his and Arthur's horses from the royal stables. Uther spoke to an attendant who quickly darted away as Uther ensured the saddles were securely on the horse's backs.

Arthur didn't need an attendant to know what was going on: Uther was taking Arthur hunting. He hadn't done anything like that in years. Why now? Arthur scrambled around his room, gathering his materials and had managed to shove his second boot on as the attendant entered his room to inform him of what he already knew.

All decorum forgotten, Arthur ran out to his father, eager to go on the trip and even more eager to find out the reason behind it. Uther almost smiled as Arthur sprinted into the courtyard.

Uther never smiled.

But Arthur did. He was practically grinned from ear to ear.

"Are we really going hunting together?" Arthur asked.

"Of course. Now mount up. We have to be back in Camelot by nightfall." Arthur climbed atop his horse and waited until his father was settled before he asked his next question.

"Why are we going?"

Uther looked at Arthur for several moments before answering, "I had to do something; you were skulking around the castle the last few days. Can't have Camelot's next king getting the reputation that he's miserable."

With that, Uther kicked his horse's sides and his animal bolted out of the courtyard and through the gates. Arthur didn't immediately follow.

He couldn't remember the last time his father had noticed anything the matter with his son. Let alone did something to cheer him up.

Arthur liked it. Wanted to revel in this feeling.

But his father was waiting.

Arthur kicked his own horse and was soon chasing after his father's in the distance. He'd soon catch up and when he did, he'd show his father that he was worthy.


End file.
